


White Swan, Black Swan

by SinderellaWrites



Series: White Swan, Black Swan [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alola-chihou | Alola Region (Pokemon), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Cults, Dark, Drug Use, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kalos-chihou | Kalos Region (Pokemon), Legendary Pokemon, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Original Pokemon, Other, Past Sexual Abuse, Pokemon, Pokemon Battles, Pokemon Journey, Pokemon Trainers, Pokemon Training, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28148631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinderellaWrites/pseuds/SinderellaWrites
Summary: Odette Cinq-Mars had it all--a promising career in the arts, and a solid Pokemon team to boot.However, a traumatic encounter with a colleague snuffed out her flame, leaving her lost and unsure of what she is to make of herself.But, a chance meeting with an old friend leads her on new path, and uncovers a sinister Team with an even more sinister agenda...all seemingly centered around her.
Series: White Swan, Black Swan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062089
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for clicking! This is my first time posting a FanFiction on here, so I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I have a bunch of additional tags here, and I've marked them for the story as a whole. I will note specific warnings at the beginning of chapters!
> 
> I plan for chapter updates to be every 1-2 weeks, unless I manage some time in between.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: The entire first arc contains only original characters, though some canon character might be mentioned in passing. However, several canon characters from the Alola region will become part of the main cast in future arcs. But for now, they will not be tagged as such until they appear in the work :)
> 
> Thanks again for stopping by! Enjoy the story!
> 
> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

The emergency breach sirens wailed through the halls of the _S.S. Mystic Milotic._  
  
Team Enigma tended to function like a well-oiled machine, but the abnormality of the sirens was prompting some chaos. None of the grunts appeared to know what to do about it, as they frantically ran about trying to gain some information from one another. But it seemed that every grunt was just as clueless as the next. Some decided to stand by and wait for instructions from their feared leader, but nothing of the sort came.  
  
Their feared leader was dealing with the issue himself.  
  
Florent Lambourne threw open the doors to the highly secure keep, located in the bowels of the ship, with his 11 year old son Armel at his heels. Florent hardened features were twisted into a look of pure rage, one that appeared to make his maroon eyes glow. He pushed on the sleeves of his navy business suit, trying to keep his hands busy. Armel’s face was a little more blank, but there was an obvious glint of childish fear in his own gaze. He clutched a thick journal tightly to his chest.  
  
The alarm sound was at its loudest in this room, bouncing off the server-lined walls and metal floors. There were no windows for the noise to completely escape out of, allowing it to swell and rattle through the high tech research equipment that had been placed throughout the space. All the light fixtures on the ceiling now blinked with that emergency red hue.  
  
The four grunts on guard in the keep whirled around at the loud bang of the doors. Although their faces were entirely covered by their uniform gas masks, Florent could tell that they were frightened by his arrival.  
  
As they should be.  
  
“Your majesty!” one greeted. He was stoic in his words, but there was a clear air of distress in the way he spoke.  
  
“Where are they?” Florent ground out.  
  
“Um, they’re still there, but…” another grunt tried to answer.  
  
“But what?”  
  
He pushed past the line of terrified grunts, and quickly approached the center of the keep. It was a large space, having been built to take up the entire bottom portion of the ship. Florent had to widen his stride to cover the distance quickly. A raised pedestal stood in the center, with a PokeBall holder perched atop it. What struck Florent as alarming was the thick glass covering that normally served to protect the balls inside. It was now completely shattered.  
  
“No, no, no, no…” he muttered to himself as he leaned over the contents. The holder was situated with five pockets, each occupied with its own neatly situated Pokeball, closed and undisturbed. Or, at least, that was how it was supposed to be.  
  
The fifth and final Pokeball stood open and broken, as if the Pokemon it originally housed had blown it out from the inside.  
  
Florent’s eyes went wide, much more so when he read the label that marked the pocket.  
  
 _Venira._  
  
“How is that even possible…”  
  
“Your majesty,” one of the grunts said again. “We are terribly sorry. But we don’t know--”  
  
“I have to ask, just to be sure,” Florent cut him off. “Did one of you take it?”  
  
He kept his back to them, speaking in a tone of disbelief. The underlings quickly fell into a collective fit of denial.  
  
“No your majesty."  
  
“We would never."  
  
“They’re your relics, your majesty."  
  
Florent took a deep sigh and straightened his back. He calmly turned to face them as he folded his hands behind him. His expression wasn’t angry anymore, as it had grown just as stoic as Armel’s.  
  
“You say that, and yet...why is it that my most powerful Blood Legendary has gone missing while you were the ones on duty?” he asked sternly. Like a teacher questioning misbehaving students.  
  
“We didn’t know what to do, your majesty,” one said as evenly as he could manage. His voice wavered nonetheless. “It had a meltdown. It just busted out and we couldn’t catch it.”  
  
“Isn’t the whole point of guards in the keep to assure none of my relics go missing?” Florent inquired. He lightly cocked his head to the side for good measure. “So you’re either going to tell me that one of you has taken it, or you failed to do your job. Both are equally as bad.”  
  
The silence that filled the room proved to be more deafening than the alarm that still sounded over them. The fear wafting off of the grunts thickened the air of the room and caused a smirk to tilt Florent’s lips.  
  
He stepped down off the pedestal. “Your next option is to beg for my forgiveness.”  
  
The four grunts exchanged looks. After a beat, they dropped to their knees, and fell over into a bowing position. They then began to run through their memorized code of apology.  
  
"Forgive us, King Florent, for we have wronged you..."  
  
Florent let it go on for several seconds. He didn’t bother to interrupt, he didn’t bother to antagonize them further. It was in the middle of all of it that he felt an all-too-familiar tickle in his ear. His eyes narrowed, and soon, the voice followed.  
  
 _ **“What is it you’re going to do?~”**_ it asked tenderly.  
  
Florent considered the words for a moment, before holding up a halting hand.  
  
“Cease and rise,” he snapped.  
  
The four grunts quieted themselves and stumbled back to their feet.  
  
 _ **“You should know that I am feeling peckish~”**_ the voice said.  
  
Florent pursed his lips, then turned his head slightly to grab a look at Armel, who had kept quiet through the whole altercation. He had moved off to the side, away from the door, to stand near a table of empty beakers and test tubes. He stood stiff straight, still clutching that little book of his. That same glint of trepidation still lingered in his eyes.  
  
He felt that perhaps, this would be a good learning experience for his one and only heir. Even if he would probably forget it.  
  
His smirk broadened as he looked back at the grunts and their downcast heads. “Your words have moved me,” he began. “So much so, that I am willing to forgive your transgression against Team Enigma and I.”  
  
There were evident sighs of relief from the grunts. They held themselves quite stiffly, as they were trained, but Florent could still see the fear induced tension beginning to leave them.  
  
“However,” he continued. He pulled his left hand from behind his back, revealing a single Pokeball he’d had on him. “You’ve outlived your usefulness to me. Your time for purification has come, my good men.”  
  
He pushed the button on the Pokeball, and it popped open with the familiar flash. The inhabitant began to manifest in front of the once-again frightened group.  
  
“Gulattive, it is dinner time,” Florent said calmly. He brought his free hand to his lips and bit down on his thumb until it drew blood.  
  
The bead of red that formed on his thumb began to glow, and a stream of light shot out from it and joined the beams emanating from the Pokeball. It met with the manifestation, causing it to begin to grow in size. It grew, and grew, and grew. It didn’t appear it would stop growing, until the glowing form had nearly hit the ceiling. However, it stopped just short of it, and faded from the beams of the Pokeball and Florent’s blood into reality.  
  
It was a towering, lanky form, with arms were as long as its seemingly legless body. This left the being floating, like a ghost. A cloak appeared to cover it, with a hood up over what should have been its head. However, there looked to be no head to speak of. Only a single, bloodshot red eye sat in place. Once formed, it loomed ominously over the four grunts.  
  
They didn't attempt to run, knowing damn well it would be futile. Their fates were sealed. They accepted it.  
  
"Mom, I'm coming home, pure and true," one muttered as his tears began to soak the inside of his mask. He shut his eyes and prepared for the inevitable.  
  
“Feast,” Florent said simply.  
  
A slit tore open in the Pokemon’s stomach, revealing rows upon rows of serrated and saliva-coated coated pincers. A pointed tongue, one that looked to be far too long to fit in its body, licked the pincers before curling outward into the open. The Pokemon emitted a threatening growl, before lunging at the grunts. All that could be heard was a set of high pitched squeals, followed by the sickening sound of their bones crunching, and the squelch of their flesh being bitten into. It took Gulattive no time at all to swallow down all of them.  
  
Florent chuckled to himself as he watched the Pokemon finish off its meal, before turning back to the puzzling sight that was the broken Pokeball and holder. He huffed again and crossed his arms.  
  
“Tell me. Were any of them lying?” he asked.  
  
Gulattive slurped to itself, before turning to face it’s host.  
  
 _“No, master~”_ it said slyly, speaking out loud this time. _“They tasted pure~ No trace of Venira~”_  
  
“Then where could it have gone? How did it break open its ball?”  
  
 _“It seems~”_ Gulattive began. _“Venira has selected a host~ It willed an escape, enough to break any bindings~”_  
  
Florent’s brows furrowed deeply, and he whipped around to face the towering Pokemon.  
  
“What do you mean selected a host?” he growled. “You told me that I selected the hosts for the rest.”  
  
Gulattive hummed to himself with sinister glee. _“You do~ But in the event your bloodline expands, one shall inhabit the offspring~ As Avareed did with the boy~”_  
  
Florent averted his gaze over to Armel, who was frozen in his spot. Sheer terror had grabbed hold of his body, and had no plans to let go any time soon. His eyes were locked on the place where the grunts had been standing. All there was left of them now was a puddle of blood.  
  
“F-father, you…” Armel stammered.  
  
Florent scoffed to himself. “Wipe the look off your face, boy. That’s how things are handled around here. You’ll forget it when you wake up tomorrow, anyway.”  
  
He turned on his heel and approached the wall just off to his left, where a giant red button was affixed. He pulled a key card from his pocket and swiped it into the reader strip that was placed just next to it. The button released, and he pressed it down, halting the alarm and flashing red lights. All returned to normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.  
  
He turned back to Gulattive. “And you couldn’t have told me that earlier?” he queried.  
  
 _“You didn’t ask~”_  
  
Florent clenched his teeth in disdain. He supposed it couldn’t be helped that this particular Legendary was so conniving.  
  
“Are you implying I have another child somewhere?”  
  
 _“Not implying, master~ Telling~”_ Gulattive stated. _“Judging the speed by which Venira left, I am to assume a child of your blood has just been born~”_  
  
Florent paced back to the front of the pedestal, his eyes downcast in thought. He raised his wrist to his face, seeking the date off his watch.  
  
December 14th, 1997. 8:16pm. The alarm had begun to go off a mere five minutes ago.  
  
“How could I have another child born at this point?” He asked himself. He racked his brain for possible answers. Several mistresses of his were aboard the ship, but none he’d had long enough to carry a baby to fill term.  
  
 _“Quite strange that master cannot remember who he has lusted after~”_  
  
“Shut up, you,” Florent snapped. “You’re Gluttony, not Lust.”  
  
As his father conversed with Gulattive, Armel was wracking his brain for ideas on what he should do. Although he had awoken with a cleaned memory slate, he supposed, if he were to avoid the same fate as those grunts, he had to be of some use. This proved difficult when he woke up every morning forgetting the previous day, but he kept his journal on him at all times for that exact reason. It served as what was left of his memory bank.  
  
He slowly brought his journal to his face and pulled it open, shaky hands flipping frantically through the pages, trying to find something he might have written down that could assist his father in the current predicament. He hoped, somewhere in his previous lives, he’d written some useful information down.  
  
He turned page upon page, his eyes scanning them for any trigger words that might prove worth mentioning. In the several seconds he was turning, he found himself slightly tripped up by the recounts of preceding days, as he always was when he reread everything. Instances that he had no recollection of, rewritten clear as day in his own handwriting, and dated for his own convenience. He blew backwards through November, October, September, August...all the way back to April, where he finally found something.  
  
  
  
April 4th, 1997.  
  
Galar.  
  
Father’s woman left today. He didn’t know she was leaving, so he’s really angry. Don’t mention her to him tomorrow. We will most likely be leaving Galar tonight because of it too, so don’t be alarmed if we’re elsewhere.  
  
  
  
“Th-the Galar-rian woman…?” Armel stammered quietly. He gulped, and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Trying to get the image of Gulattive eating four people whole out of his head. If there was any moment for him to be thankful that his brain was fried, it was this one. He’d have no recollection of it tomorrow morning, and it wouldn’t be something he planned to jot down.  
  
“Speak up, Armel,” Florent shouted sharply. Armel flinched at the way his father’s voice bounced off the walls, and his shoulders tensed.  
  
“The G-Galarian woman,” he repeated, louder this time. There was no need, though, as Florent had strode over to him, and now stood over him.  
  
“The one you met back in Spring. While we were in Galar,” he clarified. He tentatively closed the journal and held it down at his side, hoping desperately that he’d said enough.  
  
The gears began to turn in Florent’s head, and he soon knew what his shaking son was referring to. He brought a thoughtful finger to his bottom lip, as the memories lit up his eyes.  
  
“Vienna,” he recalled fondly. “That was her name. Beautiful, sweet Vienna.”  
  
He felt quite stupid for forgetting her so easily. It hadn't even been a full year yet, and considering how hard he’d fallen for her, it was almost criminal. The time he’d spent with her was time he never thought he’d let leave his mind.  
  
However, with remembering Vienna, came remembering why he’d decided to cast her out of his mental space in the first place.  
  
She’d left him without a trace. High, dry, and heartbroken. He remembered going to pick her up from her dorm at her boarding school, only to find she’d left the region entirely. No goodbye, no note, not even a phone call.  
  
He remembered how badly he wanted to wring her neck for it.  
  
He began to caress his chin, allowing his eyes to slip shut in contemplation. Their last time together had been April--eight months ago. It wasn't necessarily far-fetched to assume she could have been with a child in the weeks before.  
  
Recalling the timeline of his brief relationship with her caused him to wonder: did she leave him behind because she’d gotten pregnant? He had to wonder if she even knew at that point. If she did, it only gave him one more reason to want to feed her to Gulattive too. Keeping one of his heirs from him was a crime he wouldn’t allow himself to forgive.  
  
Especially not when said heir had stolen his strongest relic from him.  
  
“You told me Venira was comatose. How is it that it broke free to find my child?”  
  
 _“I can’t say~”_ Gulattive mused. “ _Venira has always been an odd one out~ It seems they have been reawakened by whatever presence has been introduced~ It must be a strong one~”_  
  
Florent didn’t like that prospect. While the idea of having another heir was one he enjoyed, having said heir attract the attention of the otherwise dormant Pokemon of Wrath…  
  
It just wouldn’t do.  
  
“How could I get Venira to return?”  
  
 _“The child would have to willingly give it to you, or perish~”_  
  
That was a no-brainer. A newborn couldn’t willingly give up the possession, so the demise of it would have to do. Not that he minded killing for such a gain.  
  
“Well. Then I must do some digging, and find what it is my sweet Vienna hid from me.”  
  
He placed a light hand on Armel’s head, who flinched again at the touch. Florent didn’t appear to notice it.  
  
“Good on you for remembering, my boy. That journal was a good investment.”  
  
 _“_ Th-thank you father _,”_ Armel gulped.  
  
“Come. We must go to the surveillance rooms at once.”  
  
“Y-yes father,” Armel agreed.  
  
 _“Is there anything the master requires of me~?”_ Gulattive inquired.  
  
Florent didn’t hesitate to hold out his empty Pokeball push the button.  
  
“Yes. Return,” he said, as Gulattive was sucked back into the ball in another flash of light. It sealed shut, and he threw it up once and caught it.  
  
“Your services shouldn’t be needed until I locate my newborn. It should be a solid meal for you.”  
  
His left ear began to tickle again, and Gulattive spoke in his head once more.  
  
 ** _“I shall be looking forward to it~”_**


	2. Badgering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on a lunch break, Odette tries to avoid discussing her feelings despite her friends pressing. Plus, a storm is brewing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: All characters for the foreseeable future are speaking Kalosian (French) unless stated otherwise!
> 
> EXPLETIVE WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER. Otherwise, please enjoy! :)

Odette Cinq-Mars’ maroon hued eyes were locked on her news app, scrolling through the Thursday current events.  
  
_Thunderstorms all week_ , she thought with a frown. It was the beginning of the Castform mating season, and that always meant rocky weather for Kalos. Typical January grade snowstorms one week, sun out the next, and now, torrential downpours. She deeply hoped the strange weather patterns would pass sooner rather than later. They would keep people from wanting to go to the theater, and Purrloins! The Musical was opening in a few weeks. The last thing her and her castmates needed was an empty opening night because the Castforms decided to cause a tornado or something of the sort.  
  
Her head snapped up from her phone as a roll of thunder rocked the performing arts auditorium. Her fellow cast and crew, Pokemon and human alike, ceased in all their Kalosian chatter, looking up toward the ceiling in a collective mix of concern and wonder. Some nervous giggles and ‘ooo’s’ lingered about once it was sure the thunder had stopped for the moment. A more dramatic actor screamed in an exaggerated and clearly joking fashion, prompting some more defined laughs to come out. But, before Odette knew it, everybody was back to their own chatter. The mixed group she currently sat on the stage with also went back to their chat about best Pokemon types for stage performing, while their own Pokemon partners sat amongst them.  
  
“Psychic types are ideal,” said one of the dancers. “They can sense the feelings of the audience, and therefore know when to play up their performances.” For good measure, she stroked her Hatterene on her chin, causing her to coo in glee. “Calliope here has been in a bunch of performances with me; she’s a natural.”  
  
“I get what you’re saying, but you can’t knock Ice types either,” responded one of the stagehands. His freshly hatched Swinub sat snugly in his lap, fast asleep. “They’re absolutely glorious to look at onstage.”  
  
“Okay, but Electric types can literally bring a house down. My Luxray has a voice to end all other singers. He’s something,” another responded. Her Luxray was laid out next to her, enjoying his own lunch. He seemed bashful at the idea of his trainer boasting about him, so he hid his head behind a paw.  
  
Odette was only half paying attention. So much so, she didn’t even notice her own Pokemon nuzzling her head into the crook of her arm, until she growled in frustration.  
  
Odette flinched at the sound of it, dropping her phone in her lap in the process. Her eyes immediately fell to her blue-hued Sylveon, taking in her perplexed expression.  
  
“What?” she asked. “You hungry, Enora?”  
  
She reached over to her barely eaten berry salad and withdrew a single Nanab berry. She held it up in front of Enora, causing her face to light up.  
“Why didn’t you say something, dumbass?” Odette said with a small grin. Enora wasted no time in gobbling it down, before laying down on her side in newfound contentment.  
  
_“Sylv…”s_ he sighed.  
  
“Well, Odette’s in Trainer school, and her mum studies Pokemon, so I’m sure she knows best,” somebody else spoke. It was both the mention of her name and the familiarity of the voice that finally fully alerted her to the conversation at hand. Odette turned her head to face Acadia, her longtime friend and fellow castmate, peering at her knowingly along with the rest of their lunchmates.  
  
“What are we talking about?” Odette asked after a few timed blinks.  
  
“Your opinion on the best performance Pokemon,” Acadia reiterated. “I sort of talked up your expertise, so now you have to back me up.”  
“Depends on the performance,” Odette said simply. Her hand instinctively traveled to Enora’s head. “My Gothitelle, Solene, is the best dancer I know, but I’d never put Enora here in dance shoes,” she said.  
  
_“Syyyyyyyyyl…”_ Enora sighed. Agreeing, unfortunately. She had four left feet.  
  
“You wouldn’t need to, people would flock to see a shiny Pokemon do anything,” another dancer said jokingly, prompting some agreeing chatter.  
Odette rolled her eyes. “Sure, but we’re discussing types, right?” She shrugged her shoulders as she picked up the sports drink that was sat next to her foot. “I can’t give an adequate answer, they’re all good at something.”  
  
“Sure, leave it to the aspiring trainer to give the ‘all Pokemon are great’ speech,” a hefty sized stage hand chuckled. Odette couldn’t help but smirk oh-so-slightly to herself mid-sip of her drink.  
  
“Oh, no, you read me wrong,” she insisted when she pulled the bottle away from her lips. “I’d argue magical types are the best at everything, but that’s simply me being biased from watching my mum research them for 22 years,” she said. “I can’t say much for elemental types, so I’m defaulting based on what I see in trainer school.”  
  
Her answer seemed to sate the crowd, until somebody decided to take it a step further and fully agree that magical types were indeed better than elemental types. That simply sprouted a whole new friendly argument, one Odette felt no need to get herself involved in. She’d said enough, and she had far too much going on in her own head to justify defending an argument she already felt to be true enough.  
  
Acadia seemed to fall into the same boat of not wanting to continue the conversation, because she sighed to herself and fully turned her body to face Odette. “I guess it can’t be helped,” she said.  
  
“No it cannot,” Odette agreed. She’d taken to gazing off at the back of the auditorium as she finished off her drink.  
  
Acadia opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes fell upon Odette’s partially touched lunch. Her open mouth closed into a frown, and she grabbed hold of the bowl and held it up in front of her.  
  
“Dee, really?” she asked incredulously. “Again?”  
  
Odette slowly cut her eyes back, them immediately landing on the bowl containing her salad. She stared at it for a long moment, before looking at Acadia square in her face. She was quick to take in the peculiar way her eyebrows furrowed, and the way her top lip slightly pulled back to reveal her clenched teeth.  
  
_She’s on Mom Mode,_ she thought to herself. _I’m fucked._  
  
“What, I’m not going to force myself to eat if I’m not hungry,” Odette said, knowing her words would be futile. Once Acadia made that look, there was no turning back.  
  
Acadia sat the bowl back down and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, not hungry for the fourth time this week?”  
  
More thunder shook the building, and Odette secretly wished it kept rolling in order to prevent her from having to answer.  
  
“My stomach shrunk,” she muttered into the opening of her drink bottle. She’d have forced herself to drink from it again if it were full, so she was left peering into the empty plastic as she contemplated a way to navigate the conversation that was looming. She didn’t really wish to discuss why her appetite had decided to evade her, but Acadia seemed set on getting to the bottom of it.  
  
_Fuck,_ she thought.  
  
“Lunch has never been my best meal,” she said tentatively.  
  
“Avoiding it every day can’t be healthy,” Acadia returned without missing a beat.  
  
“I haven’t fainted yet, so don’t be too concerned.”  
  
The scoff that fell out of Acadia was in time with another thunderclap, and it almost made Odette cringe.  
  
Those words probably weren’t the best response if her goal was to avoid talking about what was on her mind. She braced for the chastising, when she felt a hand land on her left shoulder. Enora immediately perked up and wriggled out from under Odette's arm. That was all Odette needed to know it was Noel who had arrived to their lunch group, back from whatever extra practice he was doing.  
  
“HELLO, Enora!” he beamed as he sat. He was promptly showered in affection from the Fairy type Pokemon, which he took in with eager ease. “Damn, Dee, I swear she likes me more than you sometimes.”  
  
“Why do you act like this is a shock to you every time?” Odette responded coolly. “She’s liked you since I caught her. She just has a thing for pretty gay men.”  
  
_“Sylve!”_ Enora chirped in agreement.  
  
“She has great taste, then,” Noel said and he affectionately nuzzled his cheek against Enora’s. “So what’s this I heard about fainting?”  
  
“Ask the idiot who hasn’t eaten her lunch for the fourth day in a row,” Acadia groused.  
  
Noel shot a look at a blank faced Odette. His expression was a little less intense than Acadia's. Sad eyes, despite the fact they were slightly narrowed, and his lower lip protruded out just a little further than his top lip.  
_  
He’s going to baby me,_ Odette thought bitterly.  
  
“Oh honey, is that why you stopped growing? Because you skip meals?” he asked. The jolly grin that followed indicated that he’d meant it as banter. Acadia snickered, holding up her hand in a weak attempt to hide her amusement. Enora began to laugh to herself as well, all while Odette narrowed her eyes into a glare.  
  
She had long grown used to jokes about her height, especially from Noel. She found it funny herself that she’d never grown past 5’0, and took the jabs with a stride, even if she wasn’t ready for them. Truthfully, she preferred the joke over him throwing worry-crusted words at her. But he’d have to try a little harder if he was aiming to get under her skin.  
  
“That’s exactly why. Maybe one day you’ll find something else about me to make fun of,” she shot back.  
  
“I’m not making fun,” Noel gasped, placing his hand over his heart. His other hand continued to scratch affectionately at Enora’s neck. “Your height is the most endearing thing about you.”  
  
Odette rolled her eyes. “Cushioning it with flattery doesn’t make it any less stale.”  
  
“Want to know what is stale? Skipping your lunch,” Acadia interjected. “What gives?”  
  
_Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck._  
  
There it was.  
  
One of the pluses, or in this case, negatives, of working with such close friends is that they picked up on the little problematic things fast. She’d been friends with Acadia and Noel since she was five. Seventeen years later, it’d be a bad testament to their friendship if neither one of them had noticed anything. Much to Odette’s private chagrin.  
  
She’d have preferred to just keep her thoughts secure inside her own head, but she knew for sure that at the very least, Acadia wouldn’t allow that.  
When she didn’t immediately answer, Acadia’s frown deepened.  
  
“Is it because you’re working backstage for the show?” she asked.  
  
Odette raised her left brow and side-eyed Acadia. “What do you mean?”  
  
“You know what I mean. Doing crew work instead of performing.”  
  
Odette blinked rapidly as another roll of thunder passed by. She took that long moment to consider what was said.  
  
She felt an all too familiar feeling of dread start to rise in her throat, and she suddenly wanted to walk out into the storm and sit until she got struck by a well-aimed lightning bolt. That was preferable to the hole that was opening up in her chest. Her blank expression remained.  
  
“I don’t want the wasted talent spiel again, you gave it to me last week,” she said evenly.  
  
“They do say repetition is the best way to teach,” Noel chimed in. “Isn’t that right Enora?” he asked as he tampered with one of the Syvleon’s tendrils.  
  
_“Syl Sylveon,”_ she purred.  
  
“It’s also the fastest way to make something exceedingly obnoxious,” Odette groaned. “Speak for yourself, Enora. You try to bite me if I try too hard to teach you a new move.”  
  
To that, Enora began to pout. She stuck her tongue out at her trainer defiantly.  
  
“Real mature,” Odette mocked.  
  
Acadia sighed again, and tilted her head back in some minute exasperation. “I told you you should have come with us to the auditions. I just can’t wrap my head around why you’re in the back, when you have exactly what it takes to headline,” Acadia said. “Superior dancer, singer, and actress. And you’re an assistant stage manager, instead of being on the dance line with me, or acting in a role with Noel. Why are you so down and out?”  
  
Odette didn’t immediately answer. In fact, she couldn’t find any viable way to answer. Because the reason behind it all just made her insides knot up.  
  
“I mean, I can’t disagree. It’s true,” Noel said with a shrug. Enora had defiantly curled up in his lap, and he’d begun to mindlessly pet her. “You hated crew work in primary school. Everyone thought you were going to be the next Diantha.”  
  
At the drop of Diantha’s name, the dread that had begun to creep up exploded throughout her person. A loud rumble of thunder rattled throughout the room simultaneously. Yes, a natural lightning bolt to the head sounded really good at that moment.  
  
Diantha, the unattainable idol. Everything Odette wanted to be, and everything she couldn’t be. But she wouldn’t allow her brain to trek there.  
  
Not now, at least.  
  
_For the love of Arceus, drop it._  
  
“I just didn’t know what I was missing,” she murmured.  
  
“I mean, I know the Deschamps thing is still--"  
  
Odette raised her index finger up in Acadia’s direction, cutting her off. The suddenness of the movement even caused Noel to flinch, and Enora’s tendrils stiffened, her playful annoyance gone. Odette’s expression grew deadly serious.  
  
“ _Don’t_ finish that sentence,” she warned. Her words were underlined by another stormy crackle.  
  
It wasn’t an instance she needed to relive right now, that was for sure. She was still feeling the aftermath of it, a year later.  
  
She slowly dropped her hand, and inhaled a sharp breath in order to compose herself. She had to regain control of this little chat before that exploding anxiety overtook her too much. She would always be appreciative of their well-intentioned worry, but sometimes, all it did was make things worse.  
  
“I’m just not sure I feel ready to perform again, so I feel lacking in motivation. That’s all there is to it,” she explained. “And even if I was sure, I couldn’t lead in anything, because I’m moving in March.”  
  
She paused to consider how to round off her sentence effectively.  
  
_They’re sad about it, still, right?_ she recalled internally.  
  
“That’s stressing me out more than anything, actually.”  
  
It was a bald-faced lie, but at least it was one she could pass off easily, and it would prove effective here.  
  
Moving would stress anybody out. Fortunately, she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d be leaving Kalos quite a while ago. She knew Acadia and Noel hadn’t, though, which encouraged her split decision to bring it up in the first place. Their own grief over it would cloud their targeting concern for her mental state, and steer the conversation off course enough for it to drop off. At least, that’s what she’d gambled would happen.  
  
But she knew from simply being in their presence since the move had been announced that it should have worked. While seventeen years of friendship had allowed them to pick up on her little quirks, it allowed her to take in almost every little detail about them.  
  
It proved to be an invaluable tool in playing off these heavy discussions she never wanted to have.  
  
Sure enough, Noel’s face twisted to form an expression that should have been accompanied by tears. He swatted angrily in her direction. Meanwhile, Enora stood up from her spot in Noel’s lap and nudged her head back into the crook of Odette’s arm.  
  
“Gosh, don’t remind me of that, Dee,” Noel whined. “First my sister, then Claude, then Basile, and now _you_.”  
  
He dramatically ran a finger under his eye, as if some tears had actually started to fall. “Our dance group here is seriously dwindling. It makes me so sad to think of your flat being empty.” He then gestured wildly to Enora. “Plus, how am I going to see that precious thing when she’s all the way on the side of the world?!”  
  
“You can always fly to Alola whenever, it’s only a ten hour flight,” Odette chided. “Or if you want, I can just leave her with you.”  
  
_“SYLVEE?!”_ Enora gasped, recoiling her head back.  
  
“Relax, I’d never entrust him with you,” Odette assured, pulling her back into a loose hug. That seemed to be all Enora needed, because she immediately lost all the tension in her body.  
  
“ _Only_ a ten hour flight,” Noel repeated incredulously.  
  
“I mean, it’s only five hours to go visit Noemie in Galar, so just think two of those, and you’re there,” she explained.  
  
As Noel began to falsely pout, Odette cut her gaze back to Acadia, who had taken on her own form of a somewhat saddened expression.  
  
“Hm, I do try to put that out of my mind myself…” she said in a huff. “It’s sad for you to be moving so far away.”  
  
Odette gave the most affirming nod she could muster. “Mum’s duty calls,” she sighed. “And I’m responsible for the water bill.”  
  
Acadia sighed deeply again, raising and lowering her shoulders with the force of it.  
  
“Look, Dee, I’m sorry for bringing... _him_ up,” she apologized. Even the implications of ‘him’ was enough to make Odette grimace ever so slightly, but the sidestep around the subject was enough for her to refrain from interrupting again.  
  
“I’m just worried about you, you know? You’re not you. You need to stop letting him get to you like this.”  
  
Despite the sting the words gave, they were true. She wasn’t herself, and hadn’t been for a while.  
  
_Take my bait, please,_ she begged to herself. _Put me out of my misery._  
  
“But, yeah, a move to Alola is stressful. I wouldn’t be able to eat either if I had that hovering over my head,” Acadia said.  
  
_Safe,_ Odette thought as she withheld a relieved sigh.  
  
“And as sad as I am that you’re leaving, maybe that’s what you need. A clean slate!”  
  
“The Elite Family dance studio is in Alola, you could audition,” Noel suggested suddenly. “Alolans are known for being great singers too, you could probably also find a good vocal coach!”  
  
“I heard they’re finally establishing a Pokemon League there, that would be great to get in on as well!” Acadia added.  
  
Enora seemed to like that idea, because her long ear stiffened at the sound of ‘Pokemon League.’  
  
_“Syyyylll?”_ She asked.  
  
_Not safe._  
  
Odette couldn’t help the dubious smirk that took over her lips. She averted her eyes back toward the back wall she’d been staring at previously in order to avoid the hopeful gaze Acadia had begun to give her. She’d wriggled her way out of one undesirable talk, and stepped foot into another. While preferable, it still wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind.  
  
The idea of a clean slate was great. She agreed, it’d be a good start. But the plans her friends were suggesting only added to her muddled thoughts.  
  
Elite Family, singing, the new Pokemon League…those were bigger steps.  
  
Acadia and Noel meant well. But _fuck_. Odette had less of an appetite than she did before lunch had even started.  
  
“Maybe,” she quipped, scratching Enora on her chin. But in all reality, she wasn’t sure if she would be up for all of that by the time March rolled around, when she’d be getting on that Alolan Airways flight to her new home.  
  
_I doubt a region change will make that much of a difference…_  
  
It was there that the familiar ‘End of Break’ bell rang through the auditorium, and everybody immediately stopped their talking and began to pack up to return to rehearsal. That bell signalled some reprieve for Odette, and she was more than happy to get back to work at that point.  
  
Rigorous rehearsal meant no more time to spend on trying to get her to spill her guts.


	3. Keep It Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odette gets angry at some street racers. 
> 
> CW: Strong Language, Implied History of Sexual Assault

When rehearsal finally wrapped for the day, it was 9pm and the storm had passed. Water dripped sporadically from the marquee sign overhead, and the smell of rain-soaked asphalt still lingered in the air. Odette could still see clouds in the night sky, but the downpour had indeed ceased for the time being.  
  
The sounds of ear-shattering thunder had given way to the typical bustle of the City of Lights. Car horns rang from every which way as their tires tore through the road’s puddles; nearby bistros cranked up their stereos, hoping to attract more post-storm customers before they closed for the night.  
  
The trio trekked out from under the marquee and began to walk a little ways down the sidewalk, passing all of the parallel parked cars and bikes. They came to a gradual stop next to Odette’s motorcycle. The wet white finish gleamed under the overhead streetlights.  
  
“Well, the break in the weather makes my ride home a lot easier,” Odette said as she sat her motorcycle helmet on the handlebars and swung her backpack around to her front.  
  
“Not mine,” Noel whined. “Braviary won’t fly after rain, the defiant little bugger,” he said jokingly.  
  
“Looks like you’re coming with me then,” Odette replied. She withdrew both a key-chain and a small rag from her backpack and began drying the motorcycle’s seats.  
  
Noel’s face lit up, and he clapped his hands together. “Oh, I love a good cycling moment.”  
  
Acadia sucked her teeth and placed a stern hand on her hip. “That’s not a good idea, you don’t have your spare helmet.”  
  
Odette blinked a few times, wiping off the last of the rain and wringing out the rag.  
  
“Mm, you’re right,” she said.  
  
Without another word, she picked up her helmet and handed it to Noel.  
  
Noel gasped and eagerly took it, then held it high above his head triumphantly. “Yay!” he cheered, lifting the helmet above his head like he’d won a Tonio for Best New Broadway Performer.  
  
Acadia now looked even more displeased than she had before. “That doesn’t solve the problem!” she said.  
  
“Well, I’m not going to let him walk home,” Odette insisted.  
  
“I walk home,” Acadia said.  
  
“Yes, your apartment is two blocks away, must be nice,” Noel said as he briefly examined his nails. “Our building is a twelve minute drive away.”  
  
“I figure, since I’m the versed motorist here, I have a better chance of surviving any crashes without a helmet than he would,” Odette explained.  
  
Acadia didn’t buy it. Still living out what was left of her Mom Mode, she bent down so that her eyes were level with Odette’s. Her brow began to twitch, and she tightly crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
“That’s literally not how that works,” she said.  
  
“Then, worst case scenario, Enora uses Protect on us,” Odette suggested.  
  
“She’s in her Pokeball right now.”  
  
“She has a voice activation key on her ball, she’ll come out if I need it.”  
  
They stared intently at each other for a long moment, each waiting for some sort of retaliation from the other. Noel’s eyes darted back and forth between them, before he glided over and placed his hands on Odette’s shoulders.  
  
“With all due respect, Mum,” he said to Acadia, with a sarcastic edge on the last word. “I trust Dee enough not to get us killed.”  
  
As Acadia’s frown deepened, Odette turned back to her bike and checked that the headlights were in order. It was two against one now.  
  
A moment later a frustrated sigh came from behind her. “Fine. But,” she said, raising her hands defensively and turning her nose up. “text the group chat and let us know that you made it home in one piece then, ‘kay?” She paused, then frowned deeply. “And Noel? Don’t call me ‘Mum’ like that.”  
  
“But you make it so easy,” Noel pouted, then. He jumped back to avoid Acadia’s half-hearted swat. Laughing, he pulled on the helmet and flipped down the visor over his face.  
  
“Can we go now? It’s cold, and I want to get in front of my heater,” he complained with an exaggerated shiver. Sweeping out the coattails of his trenchcoat, he flopped down in the passenger seat and patted the area in front of him. “Chop, chop, chauffeur.”  
  
Odette pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?" she asked with a slight joking edge. "Maybe I will crash us, just this once.”  
  
Nonetheless, she straddled her seat, picked out her motorcycle key, and revved the bike to life. Noel’s laughter rose from behind her.  
  
“Nonsense, what would you do without me?” he asked tenderly.  
  
“Probably have a lower blood pressure.”  
  
Acadia watched them with her arms still crossed. “Be careful, guys,” she warned.  
  
“See ya!” Noel called back as Odette rolled out into the stream of traffic.  
  
Odette had never felt the urge to trade her motorcycle in for a flying-type pokemon. Noel, when he wasn’t going on and on about how his Braviary didn’t listen to him, always claimed flying was a truly exhilarating experience, but for Odette, nothing trumped a motorcycle. She was in full control, weaving in and out of traffic and between buildings at mach speed; she decided where to go, and how fast she went. Flyers didn’t know what they were missing.  
  
Odette tightened her grip on the handlebars as a breeze stirred her bangs, cool against her uncovered head. She’d have to be extra careful tonight. The last thing she needed was to have Acadia screaming “I told you so!” at her hospital bedside.  
  
Or worse, over her grave.  
  
The city storefronts flew by her in streaks of bright light, seemingly absorbed by the headlights of the other cars she was surrounded by. The brisk air nipped at her face, leaving her nose inflamed and beginning to run. She quickly reached up a hand and rubbed at it, as she switched into the middle lane of the road. Her eyes darted between the two cars that bordered her bike, and she instinctively slowed down when she saw the right car begin to swerve into her lane without the use of a blinker. It then sped up, as if trying to leave that little faux pas behind.  
  
“Dumbass,” Odette said to herself, going back up to her normal speed. Her mind buzzed with observations as she maneuvered between cars.  
  
_Watch the van, they’re lane hopping...that hatchback’s driving under the speed limit, driver looks like they’re texting, steer clear…why is this stupid sedan on my ass? And there’s the stoplight. Shit, it’s turning. Not going to even try to run it with Noel on here._  
  
She slowed to a stop at the front of the pack of automobiles waiting for their chance to charge across the four way intersection. The downtime gave her the chance to rub her tingling nose again and untangle her bangs.  
  
Noel seized the opportunity for a chat. He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder and loudly inhaled.  
  
“Dee, I gotta ask. What shampoo do you use? The inside of your helmet smells _so_ good.”  
  
“Bulba and Bulba curl moisturizing shampoo,” she answered. Her eyes remained deadlocked on the traffic running perpendicular to them. “It doesn’t have much of a smell, though. You’re probably noticing the heat protectant spray.”  
  
“I still don’t understand why you straighten your hair,” he sighed. He grabbed one of her braids and began to tug on it playfully. “Your curls are amazing, and you would rock the Luxray mane look.”  
  
Odette pressed her lips together. “Until you have thick curly hair to deal with every day, don’t yell at me about what I do to mine,” she said. “I like my braids, and my braids like me.”  
  
Noel kept up with his chatter, but Odette tuned him out as she watched the traffic. The hundreds of tires rolling over the soaked asphalt blended with the sounds of the rumbling engines in the nearby cars near her, and the music from the storefronts just off to her sides to create a full cacophony. Odette drew in a deep breath. Most people weren’t fans of traffic noise, but she had always found the sheer volume calming.  
The sound of an engine revving echoed violently from over the building off to her right, and it caused her to jolt. Even from far off, it rattled in her eardrums above all the other sounds.  
  
Odette jerked her head in the direction of the disturbance. On the street, a few people had halted, looking around.  
  
“Street racers? Who the hell is street racing in Lumiose at this time of night?” Noel exclaimed, pulling his hand away from Odette’s hair. Before Odette could answer, that same revving noise exploded through the area again, louder than the first.  
  
“Look!” Noel called, nudging her back. Three cars raced around the corner. They were sleek, shiny, and probably cost more than her entire apartment and everything in it.  
  
_Rich people out for a joyride._  
  
“Red light’s gonna rain hard on their parade,” Noel laughed. Odette’s eyes flicked over to their light; sure enough, it had gone green. The cars around them started forward, but Odette didn’t move her foot from the break. Her gaze was fixed on the three cars. Their speed wasn’t letting up in the slightest.  
  
_They’re not going to stop,_ she realized.  
  
The cars behind her began to honk, and she felt Noel jostle her again, lighter this time.  
  
“Uh, Dee?”  
  
It all happened in a snap. As the sports cars entered the intersection, the honking became frenzied. Cars screeched to a halt. The street racers tore past, sending up a spray of mist. They rounded the next corner, and they were gone as quickly faster than they’d appeared.  
  
Odette blinked rapidly, trying to process what she’d just seen. The passersby erupted into conversation. Even though she couldn’t make out the words, she could hear their disdain and disbelief.  
  
_Those fuckers could have killed somebody_ , she thought numbly. Around her, the honking had died down. The light was still green, but the traffic remained halted, sharing in the same shock as her.  
  
Odette felt an all-too-familiar tingling sensation start to form in the small of her back. Her lips curled back over her teeth. The corners of her vision began to go red.  
  
“Those fucking lowlifes,” she spat. She violently revved her bike. “I’m gonna--”  
  
“Hey!” Noel snapped. He smacked her lightly on the crown of her head. “Simmer down, Hothead!”  
  
Odette whipped around in her seat, one fist raised. She couldn’t hear anything above the rush of blood in her head.  
  
“Do you want my goddamn fist down your throat?” she shouted.  
  
Noel flinched back. His hands came up defensively in front of his face. “I want you to drive before the guys behind us shove their fists down both our throats!” he yelled back.  
  
She stared. The red began to clear, as the aggravated honks behind her began to register. She lowered her fist, turned around, and propelled the bike forward. Her heart was pounding as fast as her mind was moving.  
  
“God,” Noel breathed when they were well away from the intersection. “Leave it to you to go psycho over some stupid racers. Keep it together, Dee.”  
  
Warm-up breaths, she thought. One second in, one second out. That was a start. Now two seconds in, two seconds out. She wasn’t feeling any different. The tingle in her back had yet to lessen, and her brain buzzed with threats and ferocious thoughts of payback. She wanted nothing more than to blacken the eyes of one of those drivers. Haul him out of his car, slam him against the wall and punch and kick, until they were a bloody pulp, until—  
  
_The audacity, the sheer fucking audacity…_  
  
The breathing wasn’t working. She felt like she wasn’t getting enough air. All of her brain power was going toward her rage. She had to concentrate on something else.  
  
So, she began to recite the Purrloins! Script instead, starting with the opening song.  
  
“Are you blind when you’re born, can you see in the dark, can you look at a king, would you sit on his throne…” she sang to herself. She focused on remembering how the orchestra sounded when they played along with the singers in rehearsal. The harmonies, the rests, the subtle grooves, the way they were never quite together on the sudden rests, no matter how much the conductor scolded them.  
  
She kept on driving toward her building. The more she focused on picturing the stage as she sang the lyrics, the less she focused on the idea of hunting the drivers down, and making them pay for their bullshit.  
  
Another turn brought her onto Gigavolt Way. She slowed to a stop outside a low-rise apartment building. The familiar sight helped in cutting her anger for a moment. Arched doors stood behind wrought iron balcony fences, and flower boxes brimmed with blooming daisies and pansies. Some of Odette’s night owl neighbors were out on their balconies with their Pokemon, enjoying the cool post-rain air. They waved as she drove by and turned onto the downward incline leading into the garage.  
  
“Flat sweet flat,” Noel hummed as Odette stopped at the security gate and entered aher code. She easily maneuvered down the rows of parked cars through the parking lot until she found the spot labeled 310. She and her mother had certainly gotten lucky when they moved into the building, because the 310 spot happened to be stationed right next to the elevator and staircase leading up to the lobby.  
  
Once the bike rumbled to a stop, Odette swung off and began to stomp toward the elevator doors. She’d forgotten about Noel. His voice caught her just as she reached out to jab the elevator button.  
  
“Hey! _Temper Tantrum_!”  
  
“That’s not my name,” Odette snapped back, not turning.  
  
“It might as well be,” he said. “Quit stomping around and come back here.”  
  
Odette closed her eyes. She didn’t have the patience to deal with Noel being Noel right now. All the same, she pulled back her arm and turned to face him.  
  
“What,” she said. The word came out more menacingly than she had intended.  
  
Noel had taken off the helmet. He held it front of him like a shield. “Pick one. We’re either gonna do some deep breathing, or we’re gonna sing another happy song.”  
  
The tingle in her back flared again. The attempt at calming herself, wasted.  
  
“Neither, I’m fine,” she ground out.  
  
“Pick one,” Noel repeated as he stepped closer. He had a ridiculous grin on his face. The fuck was he so happy about? “I would suggest singing, the acoustics in here are great. Don’t think I didn’t hear you singing Jellicle Songs.”  
  
His grin didn’t falter, despite the intensity of her glare. All she wanted to do now was get up to her apartment and stretch all the anger out of her system with her Pokemon team, provided nobody was up to anything foolish. But no, Noel had to be a good friend and make sure she calmed down before any of that happened. The babying lunatic.  
  
She sucked in a deep breath.  
  
“Jellicles do, and jellicles can,” she sang, her voice echoing through the brightly lit garage.  
  
If Noel’s smile could have grown any wider, it did. “Jellicle purrloins sing jellicle chants,” he belted.  
  
As they continued through the verse, Noel dropped his things and began to do his own choreography for the song, as if he were back on the stage at the center. Although she tried to keep herself from doing so, she was soon smiling at the ridiculousness of it. But, the subdued performer part of her was aching to dance along with him. She’d spent enough time on the stage’s wings, watching the dancers run through their steps again and again and again, that she felt as if she knew the choreography as well as she knew the timings of the scene changes.  
  
As Noel danced, she began to move along with him. Not with the same pep, but with just enough gusto to show she had an idea of what she was doing. A couple of steps in, and the tingle in her back faded almost entirely, leaving behind a bout of exhaustion.  
  
She stopped what she was doing, arching over and placing her hands on her knees. Her vision began to cloud with sleepiness, and her insides felt like they’d melted into jelly. It suddenly pained her to be standing upright.  
  
_God, I hate this part,_ she thought regretfully.  
  
Nonetheless, she made herself breathe through it. She began to smack her lips together, now longing for a big sip of water. That usually ended the dizzy spell.  
  
She felt a hand begin to paw the back of her head as the elevator dinged, signalling it had been called.  
  
“Maybe if you diverted more energy into smiling, you wouldn’t always get so winded every time you got pissed off,” Noel teased.  
  
Odette opened her backpack and retrieved the water bottle she’d swiped from the backstage fridge just before leaving for the night. She chugged the water in greedy gulps.  
  
“I don’t think that’s how that works,” she huffed when she finished. She blinked until her vision felt normal, then she rolled her shoulders, letting her body wake back up again.  
  
“I’m just saying, getting so mad that you’re tired afterward shouldn’t be the move.”  
  
She pursed her lips as she wrestled the half-empty bottle back into her bag. “Clearly my anger issues know no bounds.”  
  
The elevator dinged again, and the doors slid open. Noel sauntered in, and Odette followed with considerably less spring in her step.  
  
“They were just stupid rich kids racing their new toys. Why waste your energy on that?” he asked as they began to move up.  
  
“ _Because_ ,” Odette said strongly. “They could really hurt somebody. If I hadn’t been paying attention, there’s a chance they would have hit us. Then we’d be paralyzed or dead. And they don’t give a shit. The inconsideration just…”  
  
Her jaw clenched, and she pushed back her rising anger. There was no need for a round two of that.  
  
“It just pisses me off,” she finished flatly.  
  
Noel sucked his teeth again, then placed his free hand back on her head. “So much rage in that tiny body. You must hide it all in your hair.”  
  
The elevator soon stopped, and opened into the complex’s main floor. The lobby wasn’t nearly as fancy as the exterior; just a wide open space with an empty front desk, a sitting area of mismatched chairs and love-seats, and a wall of mailboxes.  
  
“Let’s see what BS junk we got today,” Noel said as he popped open his own mailbox. Odette’s was quite high up, so she had to stand on the tips of her toes to be able to get the key in the lock.  
  
She was surprised at how much mail she pulled out once it was open. A couple magazines, pamphlets, and some smaller envelopes.  
Mum’s, mum’s, mum’s...she thought as she flipped through the magazine covers. Finally, she came upon a pamphlet addressed to her. She flipped it over to read the cover, and her chest seized at the words that blared in her face.  
  
  


**Fleurrh University of the Arts**

_You’re almost done!  
Sign up for Summer Classes Today!_

  
  
She dropped the rest of her mail and tore the pamphlet in half. The sudden movement made Noel flinch. When she returned from dumping the torn pamphlet in the trash, she found him watching her with knowing eyes.  
  
His brows raised. A sense of knowing filled his green eyes. “More shit from Fleurrh?” he asked.  
  
Odette didn’t immediately respond. She kneeled and began to pick up what she had dropped.  
  
“What gave it away?” she muttered.  
  
“I know that look on your face. But what gives, Dee? Why are they still bothering you?”  
  
She shrugged. “I only had six credits left when I dropped out, I guess they want to keep reminding me of that.”  
  
Noel shook his head incredulously while nudging his locker closed. He set his own mail pile down and bent down to help Odette collect the rest of hers.  
  
“Oh yeah, because you’re totally going to step foot back on that campus. After everything they did to you.” He considered his words for a second. “Or wouldn’t do for you, more like.”  
  
Her vision was swimming, but not with red this time. Her chest began to tighten, same as it had when Acadia brought him up.  
  
It had been so long since she’d gotten anything from her former university. She’d thought for sure they’d removed her from the mailing list. Her, her mother, her grandfather, and their lawyer had told the school’s higher ups where to shove it, and she figured that was that.  
  
But life seemed determined to rub salt against her wounds. Odette began to massage her forehead. Earlier, she’d stopped Acadia before she got into it. But now there was nothing to hold back the memories.  
  
_He forced himself on you, and you killed him for it…  
  
You killed him._  
  
She didn’t realize she’d started staring at the floor until Noel snapped at her. She jerked her head up, catching his concerned gaze.  
  
“Hey ma’am, up here,” he said.  
  
“Sorry,” she said, shuffling the rest of her mail pile together. “Bad memories.” She stood up and pushed her locker closed, shaking her head as a means to rid herself of those thoughts.  
  
“Would a glass of Domaine De La Roserade-Conti help? My mom would happily let us break into the wine cooler,” Noel said, flashing a grin. Odette had to admit, the offer sounded tempting. A solid buzz would put her straight to bed, no wrestling with her brain needed. However, she also had to consider the possible hangover to follow.  
  
She shook her head again, sighing. “It would, but I have trainer school tomorrow. I don’t want to be dealing with dry mouth and wrangling Loïc  
at the same time.”  
  
At the mention of the name Loïc, Noel’s expression melted into one of slight fear. “Right, handling a rabid Mimikyu while hungover doesn’t sound like a smart thing to do.”  
  
Odette scoffed as they made back for the elevator. “For the millionth time, he’s not rabid.”  
  
“You say that, and yet, he acts pretty damn rabid,” Noel said. “I’ve never met a Pokemon that wreaks havoc on it's surroundings like he does.”  
  
“Then clearly you’ve never set foot in a Pokemon research lab,” Odette said. “Have you ever met a Gengar that’s had too many bottles of protein? It put Loïc’s tantrums to shame.”  
  
Noel shook his head in disbelief, pushing the button on the wall. “I mean, still...he’s taking a long time to acclimate to ball life. How long has it been, six months?”  
  
Odette groaned quietly as she re-entered the elevator, supposing he had a point. She began to recall how her mother had brought Loïc back from Alola. She’d gone to scout their new bungalow in Iki Town, and ended up finding him hiding under the deck of the house, growling at anything that moved.  
  
_“I don’t want to bring him to the lab acting like this, so maybe you can try to acclimate him to your team?”_ she’d said upon returning, Pokeball in hand.  
  
“Yep, six months,” Odette answered.  
  
Since then, he’d gotten a little better, but not by much. He was still destructive, still rambunctious, still liked picking fights with other Pokemon for reasons not battle related. He reminded Odette of an angry rat: small, but still ready to square up with anything.  
  
Nowadays, it wasn’t uncommon for her to return home to some varying degree of chaos, typically centered around Loïc and one of her other Pokemon having a dispute. She’d left her team that afternoon with the instruction to start packing things into boxes, knowing damn well some sort of problem was going to arise. She’d had a little hope that at least _something_ would get done; that Loïc would have an epiphany and stop acting like wilding. But, she majorly knew it was wishful thinking.  
  
“Can’t wait to see what other nonsense is in store for me today.”  
  


*******

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep._  
  
So much for stretching with her team. Foolishness had indeed struck the Cinq-Mars apartment.  
  
Standing in the doorway, the sound that hit Odette immediately was the ring of the smoke alarm. White smoke rose in three separate columns from behind the bartop that bordered the kitchen. The dinner table was in complete disarray, with all four chairs completely toppled over, and the tablecloth dangling off the edge in a bunched-up heap. A board game and it’s many colorful pieces were scattered all over the wood floors. The only one of her Pokemon in sight was her Froslass, who was face down on the living room sofa.  
  
“I swear to God...” Odette said as she began to fan smoke away from her face with her mail stack. “Isaur?” she said loudly. “What the _hell_?”  
  
“ _Fross_ ,” Isaur said, her voice muffled by the cushion. She sounded exasperated, and that seemed to be the only answer she was going to give.  
  
Odette kicked the door shut behind her, then threw her helmet and mail down onto the coffee table. Her eyes began to water as she stomped across the small family room, to the dining area, passing the tipped chairs to get to her balcony doors. She threw them open and fanned the rising smoke outside. She tried to hold her breath for as long as she could, as to avoid breathing the smoke in, but found the task to be a little too difficult for her. She took to staggering her breathing instead.  
  
“What happened to _packing_?” she yelled through short huffs.  
  
She moved into the kitchen, and quickly found the source of the fumes. Her Chandelure, Ange, was sitting on the floor, bright red in the face from pouting. His signature embers had flared up and were releasing them as a result.  
  
“Ange!” she snapped. “What’s the problem? You’re going to smoke out the whole building!”  
  
“ _Luuuuuuuure_ ,” he said angrily. “ _Chande, chande, luuuuuuuure_.”  
  
Odette began to cough, feeling that tickle starting to return to her back again, along with a new tightness in her lungs. She grabbed a plastic cup full of water from the sink, and dumped it on the fires. They fizzled out, and Ange slumped over, clearly winded from whatever energy he’d been exerting.  
  
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, throwing the cup aside. She went back out to the living room, and returned to fanning the exhaust. It was there that her Gothitelle, Solene, came running out from the hallway leading to her bedroom, breathless.  
  
“ _Gothi-telle_ ,” Solene said, panting.  
  
“Help me,” Odette said. “Psychic, _please_.”  
  
Solene drew in some air and put her hands together. An orb of pink light formed between them, and suddenly, the smoke still left in the room began to ball together. The ball then hovered out the open balcony doors, and said doors slammed shut behind it. The beeping stopped, and Odette sighed in relief. She began to rub her back, as if trying to coax the tingling sensation out of it.  
  
“Guys, I wanted to come home to a calm place tonight,” she said, irritated. “Of all the days to be up to some shit, today wasn’t it.”  
  
“ _Gothi! Gothi goth_!” Solene said insistently.  
  
Odette paused in her rubbing, a thought suddenly occurring to her. She looked around the room, almost frantically. Isaur was on the couch, Ange was collecting himself in the kitchen, Solene was in front of her, and Enora was still in her ball.  
  
“Where’s the rat?” she asked.  
  
Solene pointed up at the ceiling, evidently annoyed. Odette looked up just in time for the sound skittering feet to echo from down from it. Her gaze cut to the vent above her, and it popped open almost immediately. That familiar fake Pikachu head hung down from the darkness of the air duct.  
  
“ _Kkkkkkkyu_ ,” Loïc hissed ominously.  
  
Odette narrowed her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the vents? What could you _possibly_ need up there?”  
  
“ _Kkkkkkkkkkkkyu_ ,” he responded. His body weight shifted slightly, and a slew of other board game pieces and cards fell from the duct. Odette silently watched them all hit the floor before speaking again.  
  
"You're hiding game pieces up there?" she asked with a raised brow.  
  
" _Kkkk_ ," Loïc said.  
  
“Why are you being a dickhead?”  
  
“ _Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk_.”  
  
“ _Why_ are you being a dickhead?” she asked again, her anger rising. Loïc was silent after that.  
  
Odette pinched the bridge of her nose and took another deep, long breath. “I’m going to count to three,” she said evenly.“If you’re not out of the vent by three, I’m throwing every single chocolate covered pecha berry we have in the fridge in the garbage. Do you--”  
  
She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Upon looking back up, she saw the rambunctious ghost type floating down to the floor, slowly. He landed at her feet.  
  
“ _Kyu_ ,” he said sweetly.  
  
“You’re so easy,” Odette huffed. She picked up the haphazardly thrown board game and unfolded it, seeing the familiar print of a Monopoly track. She frowned at it.  
  
“Who was playing Monopoly?” she asked, peering up at Solene.  
  
“ _Telle!_ ” Solene snapped. She pointed down at the now-politely sitting Mimikyu, and toward the kitchen.  
  
“ _Kkkyu,_ ” Loïc replied.  
  
“ _Chande…_ ” Ange called in a wary tone.  
  
Odette nodded slowly. “I could have told you that the two of you playing Monopoly would be a _horrible_ idea. What were you even thinking?”  
There wasn’t a verbal response from Loïc this time. Instead, he scurried between Odette’s legs and dove under the living room coffee table. That was all the answer she needed.  
  
“Boys, when I said ‘start some packing,’ I meant ‘start some packing without getting sidetracked by random shit,’” she sighed. She sat the board on the table, along with her backpack.  
  
“ _Go-thiii,_ ” Solene spoke in agreement.  
  
Odette eyed the Gothitelle dubiously. “Oh yeah, Miss? What’d _you_ get done today?”  
  
Solene wildly gestured back toward the kitchen, where there was a stack of four small boxes against the back wall, plain as day. Odette had been in such a hurry to do some damage control, she hadn’t noticed them.  
  
“All the glassware?” she asked.  
  
Solene nodded firmly, then gestured to Isaur, who had yet to move from the couch. “ _Gothitelle!_ ”  
  
At least the girls, minus Enora, had gotten something done.  
  
“ _Frosssss_ ,” Isaur grumbled, rolling over onto her back. At that moment, Loïc stuck his head out from under the coffee table and attempted to jump up on the couch with her. She immediately sat up and swatted at him.  
  
“ _Froslass!_ ” she yelled.  
  
“ _Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk,_ ” Loïc growled.  
  
Odette pulled Enora’s Pokeball from the front pocket and pressed the front button. With a bright flash of blue, Enora herself appeared on the table. She stretched herself out, yawning as if just waking up from a nap.  
  
“Loïc and Ange, clean up your mess. Solene, make sure Loïc and Ange clean up. Enora, make sure Isaur doesn’t kill Loïc. I’m going to take a shower,” Odette instructed flatly, grabbing her bag and making her way toward her bedroom. She’d typically be able to at least attempt to diffuse the situation, but her brain was fried at this point.  
  
She needed a breather, before she got upset again.  
  
Her bedroom was a bit messier than she normally tolerated. The contents of her closet spilled out all over the floor, reaching as far as her desk chair and bed. Most of the drawers on her dresser stood open, also threatening to dump its contents. With the preparations to move underway, she had a lot of organizing she needed to do. What could be packed away until the March move, and what she needed to keep out until then. A pile of flattened boxes were leaned up against her wire bed frame, ready for use. There was only one box in the room that had been packed and taped, but she’d had that box together for nearly a year--long before this move to Alola was even finalized.  
  
Her eyes instinctively traveled to her wall of empty shelves, catching on the amount of dust that had started to accumulate on them. Despite the fact she’d shoved every last one of her trophies and photos from her performance days into that one box, she still found herself glancing at the shelves every time she entered her room. They used to fill her with joy and a sense of accomplishment and worth. But now, they just existed, hoping to maybe one day hold something else that filled her with those same feelings.  
  
That possibility seemed bleak.  
  
She threw herself onto her unmade bed after tossing her bag to the floor. Laying there, she allowed herself to really take a second to decompress. Forget the day, forget work, forget her team’s shenanigans. She just concentrated on relaxing.  
  
She hoped, in some way, shape or form, tomorrow would prove to be at least somewhat less taxing. No attempts at emotional talks, no stupid street racers, no reminders of the past she was trying to forget. Just a day at Santalune Pokemon Academy, focused on nothing but training. That was all she was asking for.  
  
A small crash sounded from the family room, followed by a cacophony of angry shouts from her Pokemon. She cringed to herself and took the deepest breath she could muster.  
  
“Tomorrow’s a new day. Keep it together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave constructive criticism and comments! <3
> 
> Special special thanks to @Elbdot on Twitter, who's Pokemon comics inspired me to start this in the first place :)


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